


Strangers in a Strange Land

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: Final Fantasy XII, Persona 3
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-06
Updated: 2008-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They do not match the description of our outlaws, unless they have shed a few stones' weight in the last three days," Vossler said, wryly. "Though their clothes are odd, and I do not recognize the placement or sign of the insignia they wear."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers in a Strange Land

"What make you of them?" Basch asked quietly, not letting his stride break. The plain offered little cover. They had surely been spotted as well, and stopping would only have demonstrated suspicion.

 

"They do not match the description of our outlaws, unless they have shed a few stones' weight in the last three days," Vossler said, wryly. "Though their clothes are odd, and I do not recognize the placement or sign of the insignia they wear."

 

"Your eyes are sharper than mine, to make it out." Basch squinted. "They are traveling rather light. And are neither garif nor veira, that is sure. Odd travelers, on the plain."

 

Vossler's mouth quirked, though his eyes never strayed from the two figures. "You'd best watch yourself, Basch. Only three days, and my suspicious nature is already rubbing off on you."

 

Basch chuckled. "I merely feel the need to say it before you did." He raised his voice. "Hail, travelers, need you aid?"

 

Closer now, he could see that their mysteries were young: two boys the age of raw recruits. The fair-haired one stood with the stance of a boxer, alert and watching them. The other, shrouded in a long coat and close-fitting hat, seemed to be attempting to stand and having trouble at it. He favored his left leg and leaned heavily against the tree behind him.

 

Boys they may have been, but the gloves at the boxer's sides were fitted with blades in a manner Basch had never seen, and the injured one leaned on a battle axe that some of Basch's squadmates would have trouble lifting.

 

"Maybe," the fair-haired boy answered, relaxing somewhat as they drew near. He watched them oddly, apparently taking in their equipment. "We ran into a bit of...trouble."

 

He looked to the side, and Basch saw, laid out in the grass, one of the man-height plains vipers. It lay in two pieces, raggedly cut through the middle and one side of its head crumpled. Basch nodded. "Aye. The wildlife around here does tend to be rough on travelers. You seem to have gotten the better of the encounter, though. Have you any injuries that need tending?"

 

Basch looked over to the other boy, who scowled at him. "I'm fine."

 

Vossler was more straightforward, eyes keen as always. "Not if it bit you, you're not. That type of viper is venomous. If the poison takes, you won't make it to Jahara village without treatment."

 

The fair-haired boy paled a bit, and Basch said, quickly, "We've extra potions and antidotes to share, if you have need of them." Indeed, Vossler was already pulling bottles out of his pack.

 

A flash of rebellion in the dark-haired one's eyes, at odds with the way he was starting to shiver. "I don't need--"

 

"Shinji, don't be an ass," his friend muttered. "I'm out of..." he glanced over at Basch and Vossler "...anything."

 

"Well, what good are ya," the boy muttered, hand reaching up to pull his hat off and wipe his face. He looked at Vossler warily but took the vials offered.

 

Basch found himself biting his lip to keep from smiling, which, he had a hunch, would not win him favor with either of them. "I am Lieutenant Basch fon Ronsenburg of the Dalmascan Royal Guard, and this is Lieutenant Vossler Azelas."

 

"I am Sanada Akihiko, and this is Aragaki Shinjiro." The boy bowed slightly, then glanced back over his shoulder, where his friend was looking surly but much better, while Vossler had his "why am I not allowed to hit civilians, again?" frown on for some reason that Basch had obviously missed. "Thank you, for your help. We...." The boy stopped, eyes scanning the horizon with a bit of a helpless mein. "...we are very lost, I think."

 

Basch squinted at the rapidly falling sun, then smiled in reassurance. "It is getting late. Perhaps the morn will bring you your bearings."

 

Sanada Akihiko didn't look convinced, but he smiled gamely nonetheless.

 

\-----------------

 

Vossler looked pained at the idea, but Basch invited the boys to share their fire. The more he watched them, the more he was glad of it. Whatever skill they had in dispatching monsters, they seemed babes in the woods when it came to wilderness survival. They were obviously cityborn, but from which city Basch had no idea. He did not even recognize the style of their names (which, he pieced together, Akihiko had given backwards, with family name first).

 

Akihiko was the more talkative of the two, though both of them seemed to have something to hide, their words stuttering into silence more than once when answering a question. That secretive streak bothered Vossler, making him quiet and watchful. He and Shinjiro spent much of the evening eyeing each other distrustfully for little reason that Basch could discern. Basch himself thought the boys more mystery than danger. They truly seemed lost, starting at the sounds of the night animals and without provision or so much as a bedroll of their own.

 

Eventually, Vossler rose to scout the perimeter. Basch watched Shinjiro relax minutely, then allowed himself to be caught watching, earning him a scowl. Basch smiled. "I hope that you do not think poorly of Vossler. He is merely...a cautious man, given to bluntness at times."

 

"Like someone else I know," Akihiko muttered, chewing on his last bit of viper meat.

 

Shinjiro snorted, stretching out his leg. "He's got cop's eyes." When Basch looked at him blankly, he shrugged. "He looks at me like he's making sure I don't steal anything."

 

"Ah, I see. Well." Basch tried to think of a diplomatic way to broach the subject. "I think that he sees you both as...enigmas to be puzzled out. You must be very far from home."

 

"Why do you say that?" Akihiko asked, some of the tension returning to his shoulders.

 

"I recognize neither your accents, nor the style of your clothes, nor the insignia you wear." Basch nudged a few more sticks into the fire, picking his words carefully. They were so young to be on their own like this. Refugees, likely. "There are many who travel, these days, searching for new lives. Fear not, I will not pry. Merely...let me know if there is any way I might be of aid."

 

Basch felt more than saw the considering look that the two shared. Finally, Shinjiro shrugged one shoulder, "Whatever."

 

Akihiko cleared his throat, turning back to Basch. "Actually, then...could you maybe tell me if any of this sounds familiar?"

 

Unfortunately, none of it did, to Basch or to Vossler, when he returned. Iwatodai...an extra hour, wherein the world stopped and people became helpless targets...a tower full of shadows that ate the souls of men.... Basch shook his head. "I am sorry."

 

Akihiko drew in a breath, let it out. "It's all right. I kind of guessed that you wouldn't have any idea. I just hoped...when you mentioned magic...that you might know about the Dark Hour."

 

"We are but soldiers," Basch said. "What you need is a mage. Or perhaps.... If you've no other leads, you could do worse than heading to Jahara and putting your questions to the garif. If your separation from your friends was due to some disturbance in the Mist, the garif might be of some assistance. We travel there ourselves and can show you the way. If nothing else, you could sell a few viper hides there and outfit yourselves for your journey."

 

"That...sounds good." Akihiko turned to Shinjiro again. "What do you think?"

 

Shinjiro shrugged. "Better than staying out here with the damned snakes and oversized chickens." He glanced up at them, some of the antagonism draining away and leaving a tired young man in its wake. Akihiko nudged him with his shoe companionably, and Shinjiro tilted his head in his friend's direction, and Basch found himself reminded of two brothers who were once that close, communicating in their own language of gesture and shared experience. The thought did not sting as much as it had a year ago.

 

Akihiko asked about the Jaharan marketplace, while Shinjiro leaned back on his elbows, quiet but watching everything and occasionally asking a pointed question.

 

They made a good pair, Basch thought. If they could hold on to each other, they would be fine.


End file.
